


Please Stay

by castledfranks



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, I ruined my own life with this tbh, i'm going down with this ship, send help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-29 01:57:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6354241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castledfranks/pseuds/castledfranks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karen said she was swearing off vigilantes for good, but there's something about that damn Punisher...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Stay

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I wish played out on the screen (or will play out eventually)
> 
> Also I changed a little bit of canon, although that's maybe not true. Did we actually see Frank kill the Col.? 
> 
> Shoutout to Ari for previewing. <3

This is it… the day that Karen can finally say goodbye to vigilantes. A day that’s been long overdue.

With her latest column officially in edit, she wiped her hands clean of them like she promised herself she would.

And damn, did it feel good.

It felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, like maybe she’d no longer bear a target on her back. She longed to return to some semblance of normalcy, where she only heard gunshots on television and could walk home from the corner pub at nightfall and not fear for her life. Well, no more so than normal.

Normal.

She smiled as the word bounced around her brain. The small-town girl from Vermont was tucked back there just waiting to be set free again, waiting to retire the extreme state of panic she always found herself in.

And she could do that now.

Karen pushed her chair back and placed both palms flat on her desk, giving the New York Bulletin website one final look. Tomorrow her article would be live for the world to see, a longform piece: “Why Do We Need a Devil of Hell’s Kitchen?”

The answer? Because this city is finally living up to its name.

Sure one could argue that the Irish and the Russians were fairly typical as far as crime goes. Every major city has the mob. But the Yakuza? They’re something not even the police could explain. And what about all those silent threats that rise in the shadows while nobody’s watching? Like Fisk… or Frank’s old Colonel.

Karen remembered the day she found out about Ray Schoonover; it was etched in her brain. Not because she had unknowingly put herself in harm’s way yet again, but because of what had happened later that night.

_Karen struggled desperately to find the keys to her apartment. She had been crying so hard, her eyes were nearly swollen shut, and her purse was too damn deep to feel around in. All she wanted was to step into a scalding hot bath and lay there until all the blood was washed away and she was numb._

_This had to be one of the worst nights of her life, and that was saying a lot when held up next to being framed for murder, shot at repeatedly, kidnapped and forced to kill her captor. Hell, this shouldn’t even register at this point._

_And yet it did. Because of Frank._

_She thought that night at the diner she had actually gotten through to him, peeled back the layers of the complicated and chaotic man that sat opposite her in that tiny booth. She even got him to laugh at her jokes, to prove that after all, he was human… no matter how hard he tried to convince the world he wasn’t._

_She really believed that there was good left inside of him, that he was merely misguided and had stumbled off his path in life. Perhaps it was stupid of her to believe she could help him, get through to him in a way that nobody else in this godforsaken city could._

_He sure did prove her wrong._

_She begged him not to kill the Colonel. It wasn’t worth another shot to his soul, pushing him further and further into the darkness when he so desperately needed to be back in the light. Her plea was so much more than for the Colonel’s life. If she were being honest, she’d have just admitted she didn’t give a shit about Schoonover. She was trying to save Frank; she needed to save Frank. From himself._

_Karen had hoped that she would be enough to pull him back from the clutches of hell, but once again she was reminded of how foolish she truly was._

_Busting through her apartment door felt great. Slamming it shut felt even better. But pounding her fists on the concrete wall, letting strangled sob after strangled sob fall off her lips was damn near therapeutic. A moment passed before she collected herself and turned towards her bedroom door._

_She stopped cold in her tracks; she knew who it was without even seeing his face. She could smell the blood and dirt from across the room. He just returned from completing another part of his “revenge mission” no doubt. Deep in the shadows he lurked, but still his presence commanded the room - even if she was the only one in it._

_“Get out,” she barked, quickly wiping the tears that had pooled beneath her nostrils._

_He emerged from the darkness and the purple light from that fantastically blinding billboard across the street washed over every inch of him. She quickly examined him head to toe, looking for any sign that he was hurt and cursing at herself for doing so._

_As he took a few steps towards her, she frantically threw her arms up._

_“No!” she said, taking a shaky step backwards. “I told you I was done and I meant it. Now get out.”_

_He shook his head and rubbed at his chin. “Now hold on a minute.”_

_She stared at him, astounded. Hold on a minute? Surely he was kidding._

_Slowly, she inched towards the bench where she’d haphazardly thrown her bag, hoping to God she’d reach it before he did. Frank Castle was many things, but slow was certainly not one of them._

_He cocked half a smile, so quick she almost missed it, and crossed his arms over his chest. “Really? You’re goin’ for the gun?”_

_“I don’t know who you are anymore,” she stated firmly, her hands steadily gripping the .380 at the bottom of her bag._

_He moved towards her and she instantly flipped off the safety, pointing it directly at his heart. “Not another step Frank.”_

_“Go ‘head. Take the shot.” He lifted his hands over his head._

_She shook her head and let out a short breath. “What the hell is wrong with you?”_

_“I didn’t kill him.”_

_“Don’t lie to me Frank; I was standing right there. I heard the gunshot, his body hit the ground like a ton of fucking bricks.” Tears welled in the corners of her eyes, threatening. But she wouldn’t waste another drop on him. “I begged you not to do it and you did it anyway, proving to me and everybody else you’re exactly what they say you are!”_

_“I didn’t kill him, Karen.”_

_He’d never said her name before. The sound of it sent a tingle dancing down her spine, creeping its way between her legs, much to her irritation. She shifted in place and kept her eyes locked on his, forcing herself to remain in the situation at hand instead of letting her mind run wild questioning why her body seemed suddenly stimulated by his presence. Inside, she was forming a long monologue, but all she could muster was “w-what?”_

_“The Colonel… he killed himself. That damn cabin was an arsenal and he knew exactly what he was doin’ takin’ you there.” He stared at her with such conviction it damn near turned her to putty. “He looked me in the eyes and he pulled that trigger.”_

_“Why? Why would he do that?”_

_“You know why.”_

_She did. She knew Frank would have torn him apart limb from limb._

_She was startled by the sadness she heard in his voice though, but then again she shouldn’t be surprised. The two had been through a lot together, surviving the War on Terror. They had saved each other time and time again – in different ways – and they always had each other’s backs. Loyalty meant everything to Frank. And Schoonover destroyed that._

_As Frank lowered his arms, Karen lowered the gun, resting it gently on the mail ledge. “If you were just going to come here and tell me you didn’t, why’d you let me believe you did?”_

_He shrugged, glancing out the window and squinting at the purple light. “Wasn’t plannin’ on comin’ here.”_

_She shook her head and crossed her arms, gently hugging herself. “Okay, so why did you?”_

_A noise in the hallway startled her, and she whirled around to hear her neighbor getting scolded by his boyfriend as the two entered his apartment. When she turned back to Frank, he was halfway out the window. He stopped, straddling the sill, with one hand holding the window up and the other resting on his knee. When he noticed her big eyes staring vulnerably at him, he glanced down at his tattered jeans, thumbing some loose denim he’d ironically snagged climbing up her fire escape, and chuckled. “What’d I tell ya about havin’ this thing?” He stomped on the metal._

_“C’mon, Frank.” Her lashes fluttered and he swore he saw a tear fall. He knew she wanted answers, but he couldn’t give them to her. Not yet; not until he could make heads or tails of them himself. Instead, he pulled both legs out the window._

_As he was guiding the window down, he paused to duck his head back in. “Maybe I didn’t want ya to think…”_

_Her brows arched in anticipation for just a moment._

_He shut his eyes and bit his tongue. When he opened them again, hers were closed. This time it was unmistakable: her cheeks were damp with the tears she’d tried to keep hidden and her chest rose and fell with shaky breath._

_He took her in one last time, taking care to commit every part of her to memory - from the beauty marks that dotted her face to the way her hair fell over her shoulder. God, how he wanted to reach out and touch it... just to remind himself how soft it was._

_But he didn’t. Instead, he bowed his head and pressed his knuckles to his lips before silently disappearing._

 

Karen shuddered as she pulled herself from her thoughts. She wasn’t going to go there, not today. Not when she had just sworn off vigilantes. Besides, she promised herself a stop at her favorite tapas place, a strong margarita and a nice hot bath.

So no more vigilantes. For real this time.

***

Karen wiped the condensation from her bathroom mirror and stared at herself. She squinted, rubbing the hair on her brow back into place. Inhaling the aroma of the lavender bath salts that still lingered, Karen finally felt at peace.

She hugged herself in the plush towel wrapped around her slender frame and smiled, skipping across the floor towards her bedroom. She glanced up and screamed when she noticed a dark figure in the corner of her living room.

“Jesus Christ!” she hissed, struggling to keep her falling towel clutched close to her body. “Frank!”

He stepped into the light and couldn’t help but grin. “Sorry,” he said through a soft chuckle.

She shook her head, half angry and half stunned that he was really standing there in her apartment.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, ma’am”

 _Ma’am? So now we’re back to ma’am?_ “Then don’t break in!” Karen blinked a few times. “What the hell are you doing here anyway? You can’t just show up inside my house Frank.”

“I need to talk to ya, okay?”

There was something in his voice she didn’t recognize, a vulnerability that tugged at her chest and caused her pulse to quicken.

“Well shit.” She muttered as she ducked into her bedroom and scrambled to dress. Her emotions were so hot, she barely remembered to even shut her door.

So much for peace. That whole swearing off vigilantes thing lasted a grand total of an hour. Of course. Matt tried hard to keep her from making a clean break; why would Frank be any different?

_Because he actually told you to stay away from him, remember?_

Karen groaned as she tugged her t-shirt over her head and emerged from her room, flipping on all the lights she could find. She blushed as Frank’s eyes unmistakably swept over her from head to toe, and crossed her arms over her chest. “All right,” she said, doing her best to show his presence didn’t affect her. “Start talkin’.”

He shook his head. “You don’t waste a minute, do ya?”

She remained silent, determined to force him to talk to her. Part of the reason he was so frustrating was because he barely spoke; Karen always ended up feeling like she was having a one-way conversation with herself. No, this time he was going to say what was on his mind, even if they had to stand there all night staring at one another.

His eyes widened with surprise of her silence and he walked deeper into her living room, running his fingers over various items - a shot glass she stole from Josie’s commemorating her first post-case celebration at Nelson and Murdock, a porcelain figurine of a girl with a flower basket that her grandmother had given her before she left Vermont. He stopped in front of her mantle where she kept most of her photos. “This your family?”

“C’mon Frank,” she sighed, letting out a strangled laugh that only served to show him how defeated she felt as her hands fell to her sides and slapped her bare thighs. “This again? Why did you even bother showing up here?”

He glanced over his shoulder with narrowed eyes, as if unsure of what she meant.

“You did this exact same thing last time,” she reminded, stepping towards him to catch his full attention. “You closed up as soon as I pressed you for answers.”

“Yeah well I’ve got a reason for that.”

“Which is?” She was going hard at him, she knew it, but she was tired. Tired of never getting the answers she needed. Tired of spinning her wheels trying to figure out the hidden meaning in everything he said, because she was damn sure he layered his true feelings beneath fifty feet of crap in a desperate attempt to hide any emotion that wasn’t rage.

And as usual, he was slow to respond.

“Karen, you wanted answers I didn’t have at the time.”

He stared at her, no doubt waiting for a reaction, but she stood stoic.

“Fine,” he muttered under his breath. “You wanna know why I came to you that night?” His voice had gotten louder, more… passionate? She couldn’t tell. Regardless, he paused, rubbing his hand over his chin as he tried to find the right words.

For the first time, she noticed he came to her without bruises, without dried blood covering every inch of him. And she realized that she had never stopped to appreciate just how masculine he was underneath all that destruction. Broad shoulders, capable of withstanding even the most grueling activity. A face that, when not littered with bruises and blood, was soft and strong in all the right places. And his arms. Oh, his arms.

Her heart fluttered and her palms began to sweat in that cliche way that made her nauseous. He’d stolen her breath; she was too nervous to even respond and so she silently thanked a higher power when he turned fully to face her and continued on.

“It’s because I couldn’t get that image of you at the cabin, starin’ at me with disgust… I couldn’t get it out of my damn head.”

Karen held her breath. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Frank, with his feelings… just pouring out like she’d never seen before.

“I couldn’t…” His voice softened again, and he balled his hand into a fist. “I couldn’t stand to have you thinkin’ the worst of me. And I didn’t know why at the time.”

“And you do now?” Her question was so cautious, it was barely audible. Answering him was like trying not to spook a kitten: press too hard and he’d bolt out the door.

“You really need me to say it out loud?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I do.” Her tone was curt; it was time to take off the kid gloves again.

He chuckled, trying to cut the tension that had built. “You’re not makin’ this easy.”

She cocked a brow at him and turned away, sucking in as big a breath she could. When she faced him once more, it felt like time was standing still. There they stood, suspended in the moment, eyes locked in an impenetrable gaze and neither could speak. All the air had left the room and it was dead silent, except for the bustle of the street below. The hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention and she instinctively ran her hand over one arm.

Finally, she couldn’t take it. “Forget it. If it’s that difficult…”

“It’s because I care about you, all right?”

And just like that, the room was spinning.

“God help me, I care. In a way I didn’t think I was capable of caring anymore. And it scares the shit out of me because it means I got somethin’ to lose. It means I got weakness, and there are people out there just lookin’ for something they can take me down with. But I’d bring hell down on anyone that tried to lay a finger on you, you hear me?” He growled and turned away, running his hands over his head, then his face. He bit his tongue so hard he was shocked he didn’t draw blood. This conversation, it was tearing him open and bearing him raw, but he had to keep going. “I’m a lot of bad, Karen. I’ve done a lot of bad shit and lost my soul because of it. And I’d do it all over again - you know that. But I can’t… I can’t lose you.”

Her heart was racing out of control and she couldn’t stop it. She stood there, panting like some kind of dog. If she wasn’t so stunned by his words, she’d be embarrassed. But she couldn’t feel anything but excitement.

_Holy God._

“Jesus, I can hear your heart poundin’ from here.” He pushed off the mantle and closed some of the distance between them, thrilled when she didn’t take a step back. “You gonna faint on me?”

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and she was surprised at how gentle his touch was. As his finger glided gently down her neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, Karen reached down and gripped his forearm to steady herself.

His finger found her chin and tilted it up so that he once again could see those blue doe eyes. “I told you to get as far away from me as you could, and that was good advice. But I don’t want you to go.”

She lost herself in his vulnerable eyes, and for the first time felt like she could see into his soul. Yeah, he didn’t think he had one but she was looking right at it. And it was beautiful, despite everything it had been through. All the pain, the tortured hell from his past seemed to melt away when she looked into his eyes, and in that moment she knew that it was only for her.

He brought his forehead down to rest against hers. “Stay,” he breathed. “Please.”

Finally she shut her eyes and smiled. All the tension drifted away and her body eased into the comfort his arms provided. Her lips parted slightly and he took the opportunity to bring his closer. And when she finally pressed her warm mouth against his, she felt his hands slide their way up her back and pull her closer. While surprisingly gentle a gesture, Karen knew there was a strong need that lingered in the way he held her. A possession. She was his and he wanted her to feel that. He wanted her to feel like she would always be safe.

And she did.


End file.
